


descent

by Little Keplerette (classycloudcuckoolanderclasso)



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, One Shot, POV Multiple, Petole - Relationship, Rarepair, Tokole - Relationship, Unconventional Relationship, Unrequited Crush, ZERO DIALOGUE WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!!!, alternative title: classo goes too far with their new rarepair otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 21:14:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13796481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classycloudcuckoolanderclasso/pseuds/Little%20Keplerette
Summary: nichole's descent into the arms of one pete thelman, and token's descent into a bittersweet heartbreak - from the eyes of craig's gang.





	descent

**Author's Note:**

> there's a south park otp generator on tumblr. i reblogged it and got nichole/pete, and thought 'hey. i could get behind this.' and fiddle and i began spawning ideas
> 
> and then we went too far

When she first came to South Park, they all knew that their friend had fallen.

He didn’t say it, nor did he give any indication that he knew or cared about her existence, her presence, in order to prevent the resident fatass from deriving a sick, racist pleasure from it, but they knew. He was their friend, one of their closest friends – it was only logical that they noticed. Next to Craig, Token was the calmest of their squad of friends, and arguably the one they all went to for emotional advice, him being as empathetic as he was.

He was unofficially the mother hen of the group, much to his chagrin, but he did not do much to argue against it, especially when he proved it time and time again, groaning with displeasure as he went to salvage the boys from whatever troubles they’d stirred up for themselves. Every reprimand and ‘I-told-you-so’ came effortlessly from his lips with each problematic event in their normally calm lives, and in time, they’d grown used to it. They knew, and loved, their friend.

So of course, they knew when he was in love.

There were certain nuances, just little things, which told them that something was up with him. Sometimes they’d see his gaze flicker over somewhere, away from their faces when he talked to them, and if they were fast enough, they’d see that he was looking at her, from afar, with a strange sort of longing in his eyes that always disappeared whenever Cartman sidled up to them, trying to get them together. Clyde and Craig always chased him off whenever he did so, but it did nothing to quell Token’s budding feelings.

He’d been locked in the school locker room with her once, in their younger years. It had been in the news, and they’d gone over to make sure he was alright, only to find him pacing his room, wearing holes in his carpet. The expression on his face was unmistakably lovesick, and for a while, they were happy for him. There was a certain kind of lightness to his being that radiated like a soothing aura, blanketing his friends in a happy, infatuation-induced euphoria that made them ease up on the more disastrous daily activities. His happiness had a domino effect on their emotional states.

However, that had been before she’d met Pete Thelman.

It had all been unfolding nicely before she’d laid eyes on the Goth kid with the streaks of red in his hair, bleeding from his roots like paint on a canvas of black. Clyde had had half a mind to actually ask outright if the two were dating by the time they were in eighth grade, because it’d been years since they’d first been really left alone together, but they were always close to each other in public, but alas, it was not to be.

For when her bright amber eyes fell upon the Goth’s tawny brown ones and simultaneous looks of recognition crossed their faces, they knew.

She’d met him prior; it seemed, to moving permanently to South Park. She was no native to the mountain town, but distant relatives whose belongings they would collect every now and then lived in the town, and thus, served as many a reason for her immediate family to come around to visit, taking her along with them. On one of those many roundabout trips, she’d met Pete – a much, much younger Pete; a Pete who was only just beginning to recognize that he was more Goth than anything.

Another chance meeting after that, a year or so after – Pete had gotten into an accident. Blood, bright red, bleeding from his head, staining the pavement and his scalp, his hand outstretched. On the sidelines stood Henrietta Biggle; a younger Henrietta, who knew not of what to do. She was young. She’d only just begun to try smoking. She didn’t know how to patch up things yet. There were no adults around, and the driver had already up and run.

And along came Nichole.

Nichole, who Pete had only met a total of one time prior to the accident. Nichole, who had recognized his eyeliner and unmistakable fringe on sight - Nichole, who had just gone from a traumatic experience prior to moving to South Park and was now witnessing a second one. But unlike the first one, she didn’t freeze up or cry – she just called her father.

And come he did, scooping up Pete in his arms delicately as he rushed him to the hospital, Henrietta and Nichole hot on his heels, worried sick for Pete. Henrietta had been confrontational, being surrounded by so many conformists as she was, but Nichole had been the one to reassure her that all they wanted to do was help.

And help they did.

They never saw each other again after that incident, but after it, Pete had deigned to dye his hair red, in a manner that paid ironic tribute to the accident that almost stole him away. From his roots came the brightest red as he allowed the dye to bleed from the center like paints on water, snaking down each lock of hair to a certain point halfway through. Henrietta had helped him, as had Firkle, since the younger boy dyed his hair as well. Most of them did.

And then, they’d met again, years later, in the most unconventional of ways.

That is, lying eyes upon each other from opposite sides of the cafeteria.

It had been brief, but it had been enough: suddenly Nichole was standing, scrambling to her feet, stuffing her notebooks back in her bag while the other girls murmured in confusion, and way over on the other side of the room, Pete was sliding out of his seat with the intention to run away, presumably to hide behind the school, fear suddenly spiking through him. For what reason, he didn’t know, but he listened to it – and ran.

Nichole, naturally, followed.

Craig’s gang all turned towards Token, and in that moment, witnessed something _die_ in his eyes. A light had suddenly gone out, and in that moment, they all felt their hearts go out to him.

All they could do now was watch who had once been the apple of Token’s eye slip right through his fingers, and none of them were able to stop it.

-=-

The next time Tweek saw her, after that, she was talking to Pete.

It was a jarring sight, seeing the four Goths all cloistered together on the steps behind the school as usual, but with a new addition – bright, sunshine child Nichole Daniels, standing in front of them, and talking to Pete Thelman like it was nothing unusual, like it wasn’t breaking the status quo of the Goths staying as far away as possible from any conformists. And Nichole was a conformist.

So why weren’t they shooing her away? Why wasn’t she going away?

Tweek’s eyes broke contact from the scene to glance at Token’s face, and felt pity stir within his heart as he saw the heartbreaking look on the taller boy’s face. There was a distinct tinge of longing in his brown, nearly rust red eyes (nothing like Damien’s bright red ones, of course) as he stared at Nichole and the Goths, and his posture leaned towards that of one slowly spiraling downwards with no hope for ascent.

Tweek felt his heart ache for him.

Clyde always held on to the hope that they were just childhood friends. He was optimistic like that. Tweek envied his optimism. Repeatedly he would give Token a good-natured punch to the arm, reassuring him that they could only be friends, boys and girls being just friends was a thing in the good year of twenty-whatever. He had no need to worry.

But Tweek knew Pete. And this Pete, sitting in front of Nichole as she talked about God knows what to him in front of the other Goths without so much as a care in the world for what the others thought, was not acting like the Pete he knew.

Tweek had known Pete for quite some time now. He and the Goths were regular visitors to the coffee shop, being as drastically fanatic of the beverages as non-conformists could ever be, though only Pete truly lingered long enough to have long, existential conversations with Tweek about the universe and the eventual dystopian destruction the current government had the potential of creating. Tweek knew his usual, his thoughts, and his aspirations. He knew the little things that he’d come to learn over the years of befriending the guy.

And so, he noticed the little things, like how Pete’s head was angled upwards to gaze at Nichole full-on, even if she herself was too engrossed in telling her story to do the reverse to him, and the way his fingers rolled the cigarette in between each other in a lazy fashion, the ashes scattering on the floor and all over his pants. He noticed how he seemed to lean forward ever so slightly more than usual, and the faintest, faintest curling of his lips, something no one, not even him, would have been able to notice, had it not been for the tiniest crinkling of the corners of his eyes every time he smiled that tiny, subdued smile of his.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Tweek knew.

Pete had fallen too.

-=-

Jimmy had always liked Nichole.

Not in the same way that Token did, but in a way that had them sharing a bond that most others didn’t have. Being president of the school’s gardening club meant that Nichole often dropped by the journalism club to submit updates on their club’s activities, and since Jimmy was an integral member of the club, he often saw her, and talked to her, half on Token’s behalf, and half because he was genuinely curious about her. She was kind, much kinder than a good number of the students in the school, and he had never heard her curse, at least not out loud.

There must have been a catch, he had surmised. But she had proven him wrong. She was genuinely sweet and kind, and the sunniest in disposition, effectively beating even Butters Stotch, whose negative emotions manifested in the form of Professor Chaos. Even his dirt-digging skills couldn’t find anything _bad_ against her – save for the one event in her life he knew he wasn’t supposed to know about until she’d told him herself.

She did tell him, eventually. But that is for another day.

Jimmy liked Nichole, and liked that Token had fallen for such a sweet girl like her. So it was painful to see him pining over a girl whose path had strayed far away from the likes of him.

He had a lazy eye, but he was no blind man. Even without Cartman’s intervention, it had seemed like the universe was steadily working its way towards allowing the two to cross paths, at least, allowing time to allow feelings to grow and blossom from within the deepest crevices of their hearts, and allowing everything else to happen as it should, without interference. It had certainly happened to Token, whose heart now certainly belonged to the girl with the golden eyes.

Something had happened, however, and somehow, the painted path her pretty pink shoes had been treading was not the one she was following anymore. Between a crossroads, Nichole had chosen the road less followed – the road of darkness and ashen pavement that lead to Pete.

He watched her now, walking across the courtyard to where he and the other Goths were situated. Pete’s gaze had immediately lifted to her face, and curiously enough, he lifted only a hand, and bent three fingers at her three times. And, much to his surprise, she shifted her notebooks to her other arm, and mirrored the action, rosy cheeked and smiling softly. Jimmy glanced at everyone else in the courtyard, and he found his expression mirrored on their faces - the same dumbfounded look that morphed into distress as Nichole held out her hand to Pete, saying something that Jimmy couldn’t hear, but the Goth kids could, because suddenly Henrietta began to rise to her feet, ready to spew flames, when Pete spat back at her, and she recoiled, sitting back down, before muttering something. The hurt look on Henrietta’s face didn’t go unnoticed by neither Jimmy nor Nichole, because the girl said something that made the only female Goth look up before scoffing and lighting a new cigarette.

Jimmy wasn’t sure what to make of Henrietta’s actions, but he paid that no mind for now. Nichole’s hand still waited, outstretched. Pete took it, and she pulled him to his feet, smiling and saying something before turning around, gesturing for him to follow. And he did, walking after her with the same lovesick look in his eyes that Token had.

Jimmy looked away. To look at Token was like looking at a tragedy.

-=-

Kevin Stoley liked to think that Nichole was a very charming girl.

The first time he’d met her, he had been stumbling around carrying a science project, and he’d nearly dropped it had it not been for Nichole’s quick reaction to the scene, being the only one there with him in the hallway during the time.  What little that had been ruined by his clumsiness had been remedied nearly immediately by Nichole’s quick thinking and craftsmanship, being accustomed to making little handicrafts in her free time, and he’d even gotten an A+ on that project thanks to her intervention. When he’d looked to her that time after the presentation, she’d smiled at him so sweetly, he’d felt his heart pitter-patter, for the tiniest of moments – something he hadn’t felt since Red Tucker.

When he’d learned that Token had subsequently gotten a crush on her too, he’d conceded, bowing out of the competition to support one of his best friends on his quest for love. He thought Token much worthier than he, anyway, to stand by her side and be one of the numerous reasons the sweetheart of South Park High smiled. It was a tiny crush, anyway – nothing compared to the inferno that threatened to consume him each time he saw Red’s head on Thomas’s shoulder. He thought Nichole was pretty charming, to have sent him into a tiny flurry of pitter-patters, just like that, to have caught Token’s attention and left him breathless with even just her very presence. So it made sense in his honest opinion that even a Goth kid would succumb to her charms.

He didn’t begrudge Pete. He barely knew the guy beyond the one time they’d been forced to work together on a report about canines, and he’d known a great deal about it too, so they’d finished the report quickly and easily, and established that they were acquaintances at best. Kevin thought they could be friends if they tried, but Goths had this ‘no-conformist’ mentality that even his general amicability couldn’t destroy, so he let it be. At least they weren’t enemies. And if he had to pick someone besides Token, Kevin could easily say that Pete was one of his candidates.

Sitting on the front steps of the school next to the rest of his friends, sipping boba tea together, Kevin and the gang watched as Nichole rocked back and forth on her heels by the edge of the curb, her messenger bag swinging back and forth as she did so, as though waiting for someone, though they didn’t know who. Kevin guessed it was Pete, however, because there was a certain look in her eye that told him she was waiting for someone very important.

A few minutes later, the Goths emerged from behind the school, and Kevin watched carefully as Nichole’s eyes suddenly lit up like the stars in the sky, a delighted smile blooming on her face and a blush dusting her cheeks. Her arm reached up and waved, and the boys all looked at the Goth kids for their reactions. Henrietta had a sour look on her face, as did Firkle, but Michael seemed rather indifferent, only nudging Pete forward and saying something offhandedly to him, judging from his expression. Pete only rolled his eyes, but he did break away, and headed for Nichole. The moment he was close enough, Nichole locked arms with him, and rested her head on his shoulder, before they walked home.

Token swallowed harshly from beside Kevin. Kevin could only imagine how he was feeling.

-=-

Craig thought that all of this pining nonsense was, in truth, very stupid.

He couldn’t really say that out loud, however, given that he was in a very committed relationship with Tweek, and he knew Clyde would immediately point that out the minute he opened his mouth and voiced his opinion, so he let it be, instead choosing to shake his head each time Token faltered. He thought his friend better than that, but apparently even the usually collected Token Black had fallen victim to the terrors of a broken heart. Not that he begrudged him for it – he’d felt the shadow of a broken heart, once, in his younger years, during that fake break-up and relationship period of his life. Not many things ruffled his feathers, but that had been one of them.

Still, he couldn’t help but frown as he saw his friend shatter, little by little, like a glacier being hacked away at by an ice pick. Token was usually a pillar of strength in their little group, but, Craig supposed, even the mightiest towers fell with the right amount of outside force. Tweek had taught him that while constructing a tower for his tiny Lego men.

Watching her now, however, sitting at a table alone at Tweak Bros’ Coffee, Craig was inclined to ask her why. Why she’d chosen Pete, when she could have gone for Token. Token, a boy she’d gotten to know better through the unconventional means of being trapped in the locker room together overnight. He wasn’t going to ask her out of a desire to make Token look good, however – he was genuinely curious. What did she see in Pete that she didn’t find in Token?

As if to answer his unspoken questions, the little chimes near the door rang, signaling someone’s entrance to the coffee shop. Immediately, Nichole’s head shot up, and she waved whoever it was over, Craig’s gaze traveling momentarily to the side to watch as Pete seemed to glide over, like he was nothing but a phantasm. Momentarily, Craig’s midnight blue eyes connected with Pete’s tawny brown ones, but, much to his surprise, he found none of the Goth’s usual animosity. Just indifference – indifference that melted into a soft look of affection when his gaze traveled back to Nichole’s face.

Craig took a sip from his cappuccino, trying to process what he’d seen. What he was currently seeing. Nichole appeared to have ordered him a black coffee ahead of time, a stark contrast to her caramel macchiato, so now both of them were just quietly talking to themselves, Nichole curled into Pete’s side like she belonged there, pretty lashes fluttering as she glanced up at Pete every now and then, as if asking him a question, the boy replying, always with a soft look. To see the soft look on his face was unsettling for Craig, who was more used to his harsher, steelier looks – ones he always matched, time and time again.

Footsteps approached his table, and Craig looked up at Clyde, who had been sitting perched at the counter talking to Tweek. His brunet friend only glanced to the side, and Craig’s gaze followed to see the tragedy that was the turmoil on Token’s face, the boy only watching Nichole and Pete like a lost puppy.

Craig lifted his cup to his lips. Harsh as it was, he believed Token’s inaction was his fault, in the end. The universe had given him the means – the locker room – and all he had to do was act. But he hadn’t, and now he was paying the price – dearly.

All his friends could do now was pick up the pieces and hope to put him back together the best they could. It was the least they could do.

-=-

Clyde didn’t understand.

He didn’t understand a lot of things, like why his mother had to yell at him for putting the toilet seat up when she could have just asked him nicely, or why Butters sometimes dressed up as a girl and called himself Marjorine. Right now, however, the biggest thing he didn’t understand was why Nichole had picked Pete over Token. The odds had been in Token’s favor – they’d been locked in a locker room overnight thanks to Cartman’s stupid shenanigans, bonded, and Token had tripped and fallen face first into a lovesick oblivion. So why hadn’t that happened to Nichole as well?

Well, technically, it did happen to her – but her affections were directed, in Clyde's honest opinion, at the wrong person instead.

He didn’t understand what she saw in him. Sure, he understood what he saw in her – she was one of the sweetest girls he knew, and she liked knitting and basketball and flowers and all the stuff that made her, well, _her._ He understood completely well why even Pete would find her to be the apple of his eye. But the reverse? He had no clue, and he hated that he didn’t understand.

So he observed.

Observed how once, during the middle of the school year, Pete had shown up in nothing but a dark blue button up and brown slacks, lacking all the makeup that labeled him a Goth kid, and him getting into a vicious fight with Henrietta and Firkle right in front of the entire student body around lunch time. Observed how Michael was forced to hold back the other two Goth kids as Pete wiped at the deep scratches Henrietta’s nails had left on his cheek with the back of his hand, letting out quiet hisses of pain.

And then Nichole had shown up, minutes later, and all Clyde could do was stare, because this wasn’t the Nichole he knew – Nichole certainly didn’t wear fishnet gloves and deep violet blouses with frilled collars and chokers. Nichole never wore black lipstick, and she didn’t wear her mascara winged to perfection. At her entrance, the sea of students parted, allowing her passage, and at the sight of her, the other three Goth kids visibly recoiled, dumbfounded, as her eyes met Pete’s, only for both of them to widen their eyes at the other’s appearance. Clyde held his breath, and then –

Nichole giggled.

It was a tiny giggle, but it was a sign Nichole was still Nichole. She’d just worn something different that day. Soon, she was laughing with delight, and – much to everyone else’s amazement, Pete’s lips curled up in a genuine smile as well, lips parting to let loose the smallest of chuckles. It was small, but it was enough. The student body watched as Nichole found her way back to Pete’s side again, hand just barely glancing over the nail marks on his cheek. The dark look on her face that had appeared soon after had been a blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment, but Pete didn’t miss it. In front of everyone, he’d leaned down slightly, and – Clyde was pretty sure he heard Bebe pass out somewhere near the back – kissed her, right in front of everyone, before taking her hand, and walking the hell out of there.

In that moment, Clyde finally understood. Sort of.

It was hard to put into words, but Clyde was more of a feeler than a thinker, anyway. He just understood – understood why both had dressed as something they weren’t, and why Pete had pulled that in front of everyone, without so much as regard for what the others thought about him. He understood that, as of the moment, the only person whose opinion mattered to him happened to be Nichole.

And Nichole approved.

Clyde really didn’t know how he’d help Token out of his rut now.

-=-

Token may have been a heartbroken man, but he was by no means bitter.

And what legitimate reason would he have to be bitter, except over his own failings as a person? Nichole was a person who made her own decisions, and he’d be damned if anyone made the decisions for her when she was perfectly capable of making her own. He could not be bitter over the fact that Nichole had chosen Pete, because he had done nothing to fight on his end. He could have been actively attempting to get to know her better, take her on dates, all that romantic garbage – but he hadn’t. He’d stood to the sidelines, pining for a girl whose heart he’d lost to another.

But perhaps, her heart had never been his to have – perhaps that moment, in the locker room, trapped together overnight, getting to know each other, had only served the purpose of pulling the rug out from under him, sending him down into the spiraling abyss that were his feelings for her. It certainly felt that way to him now, as the batch valedictorian Wendy spoke out at the podium, talking about all the events that had happened over the years, about the people they’d lost to other schools and other events, and the friendships that had been forged in the fires of the school. As Wendy’s words coalesced into a background hum in his ears, Token closed his eyes, and allowed himself just a few moments to reminisce, remembering all the times he’d seen and spoken to Nichole, over the years, and the feelings that threatened to spill out but never did, because he was nothing but a coward who had faltered right when everything had been laid out for him.

As everyone tossed their hats up in the air, cheering, as they finally stood before everyone else, a graduating class of more than two hundred, Token’s eyes wandered over the forms of his friends, taking in their appearances like it would be the last time he’d see them - hopefully not, but there was no harm in looking, of course.

Clyde and Bebe, arms slung over each other as they cheered loudly, Bebe hollering like a madwoman but still looking as fabulous as ever.

Craig, hand in hand with Tweek, as they approached their parents, Craig’s little sister Tricia Ruby running over and throwing her arms around both of them.

Kevin, face bright red as Red threw her arms around both him and Thomas, who only shrugged helplessly, a lopsided grin on his face.

Jimmy, spinning Timmy around in his wheelchair and yelling the best he could with him.

Even Stan and his crew looked like the happiest people in the world, Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Cartman, and Butters all fist bumping each other, despite whatever they thought of each other.

It was a sweet graduation.

And then he caught the sound of a delighted shriek, and he turned, to see a giggling Nichole, a foot or so in the air, being spun around by Pete, whose piercings glinted like precious metals in the sunlight. As he let her down again, Nichole stood on her tiptoes to press her forehead against his, and held his hands close to her heart and her diploma, a soft, sweet smile on her face, the expression mirrored almost exactly on his face. Token turned away, feeling that he was witnessing a private exchange, and, despite himself, felt the ancient pang of heartbreak ringing in his chest. He held his diploma to his chest, and closed his eyes, letting what he finally understood sink in.

Her heart had never been his to have from the beginning. But his heart, he knew, would always belong to her.


End file.
